Alone
by Mariana1
Summary: Part 2, following on from 'I promise' again with the SLASH... so please don't read it if you don't like it. Nick/Greg all the way. Greg's getting out of hospital and Nick's heading for revenge.


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AN: Hey… part 2 carries on from a while after 'I promise' left off… again, I DO NOT OWN THEM (though I seriously want to) but I do own the story so please tell me what you think and if you want to copy it… or else. Now after you've read hit that leeetle button that says submit review… go on, I dare you… 

My thanks to Madia this time for helping me beta when Will wasn't available… thank you oh most wonderful person!

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Alone

Nick sat, twisting the chair idly from side to side in the empty DNA lab, which lay dormant, awaiting the return of its maestro. Likewise the young CSI sat there, staring around at the machines, dead and cold without Greg's presence. Greg, his boyfriend, who was at this moment in hospital recovering from life-threatening injuries, inflicted upon him by some sick-minded idiot. Nick smashed his fist into the desk so the glass containers jumped. He glared at them as they tinkled, as though it were their fault he was sitting there, thinking about all the crazy things Greg had done there. He remembered all their conversation, especially the last one that had concluded with their first kiss and an invitation to dinner. He smiled weakly in memory.

"You can't just sit there all night," came a voice from behind him- Sara. He didn't acknowledge her presence, at this moment he just wanted to be alone.

"Nicky?" She said, coming and standing in front of him, bending down to look into his eyes and place a hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to talk?" He looked straight at her, into her eyes.

"Not really," he said, voice expressionless. He just wanted her to leave.

"Ok," she replied, looking hurt, "Catherine sent me to tell you we have a suspect," she said and his expression changed immediately to one of anger and alertness.

"Who?" he demanded, standing up, his accent more pronounced by the second.

"I can't tell you…" Sara said sadly. Nick grabbed her by the shoulders.

"He attacked Greg!" he yelled, shaking her slightly, fire in his eyes, sympathy in hers.

"I know Nicky," she said, without flinching.

"He _raped_ him!" Nick growled his voice low with emotion. Sara reached out and touched his face gently with her fingertips tears evident in her eyes.

"I know… Nicky, I know!" She wrapped her arms round his neck and hugged him, holding him close, tears falling from her eyes to his shoulder.

Gently he pried her off, wiping the tears from her eyes with his thumbs. He looked at her intensely for a moment then walked out of the lab leaving a distraught Sara staring after him in astonishment.

*****

They had a suspect! Nick's eyes scanned the department looking for a free computer, anywhere, absolutely anywhere. Out of the corner of his eye he saw one.

Trying his best not to seem hurried or urgent and be inconspicuous, Nick walked over to the computer and sat down in front of it, stretching his fingers and beginning to type. Within seconds he had all the details of the case.

"Gottit!" he said under his breath, standing up and grabbing the printout from the computer. Now, he thought with vengeful and furious satisfaction, he's going to pay. His steps, firm and deliberate, carried him from the room purposefully.

*****

Nick pulled the car up outside the address he'd got and checked it on the printout. Yes, this was the place, the place where that bastard lived.

For minutes he just sat there, glaring at the front door muttering curses under his breath at the son of a bitch who'd hurt the man he loved. After a while he stopped staring at the house and got out of the car, slamming the door, cold fury dancing in his eyes.

He knocked firmly on the door assuming a false smile and adjusting the baseball cap he'd jammed onto is head when he left the lab.

The door creaked open, still on the chain, and an unshaven face appeared. Nick's jaw muscles tightened with the effort as he exerted control over himself to stop himself from kicking the door down.

"Hi," he said turning on the charm like a tap. "I'm Nick Stokes with the Las Vegas Crime Lab, could I come in?" 

"Sure," the guy said, looking around furtively. "C'mon in." He opened the door to admit him. "I've already had two of your lot over here today," he said, closing the door, Nick waited a second, "is this about that guy who got attacked?"

That did it. Nick snapped. There was no way this asshole was going to get away with talking about Greg like that. He picked him up and slammed him against the now closed door, his hand tightening round his throat, crushing the air from his windpipe.

"What?!" the man gasped, turning purple. "Why are you doing this? What did I do?" Nick felt the anger grow inside him, igniting every cell in his body with pure unadulterated rage. This man, this worthless piece of shit had hurt Greg. He had hurt the one person in his whole life that he had ever been in love with. The one person he could not live without. This guy had tried to take that away, had tried to take away the most precious thing in his life. He had to pay! Nick had promised Greg he would pay!

His fist was just about to connect with the guy's face when the splintering of glass sounded from a back room, alerting them both to a second inhabitant. Nick loosened his grip on the man's throat.

"Who else is here?" he asked, danger in every syllable. The guy shook his head.

N…no one…" he stammered, staring at the young man who stood irate in front of him, one hand still pinning him to the wall. Nick glared at him again and used his hold on his shoulders to bash his head against the door.

"WHO ELSE IS HERE?" he yelled.

"That would be me…" a voice sounded behind him. "Nick Stokes," it went on, "the most predictable CSI in Las Vegas. Wave a stick in front of him and see him jump." The mocking tones compelled him to turn around.

"Who are you?" Nick asked confused.

"Poor ickle Nicky who's boyfriend got attacked. You wanna know a secret Nicky, do you?" Nick nodded, unable to speak as the strange man approached conspiratorially, a patronising look on his face. "You wanna know what I know Nicky, do you?" he repeated the question. Nick swallowed, his throat constricted, something here wasn't right, but all his attention was focussed on the man's face, that look of condescending secrecy. "Y'know your boyfriend? Y'know what he screamed?" Nick stood frozen, dumbstruck by this unknown person walking calmly toward him. "As that knife went in… he screamed your name, Nicky. He screamed your name."

The spell that had seemed to encase him, rooting him to the spot broke there and then and Nick leapt at the stranger, his blood pounding in his veins. It was only as he sped at the guy, unable to hold himself back, he realised what was wrong. It was the shining knife in the guy's hand.

*****

Greg stood nervously in the reception area, flinching from the people who looked at him and from the louder noises. He was always jumpy, ever since the attack. The only time he ever felt safe was when he was with Nick.

Nick… he wasn't there; he hadn't shown up. He had been supposed to pick him up half an hour ago, but he wasn't here. He'd left him alone… all alone. How could he do this to him?

Every time he was alone the memories came rushing into his head to fill the empty spaces. They made his body shake and every nerve ending scream. They made him long for Nick's protective arms.

A beeping from his pocket made him jump violently. He recovered quickly, feeling stupid when he realised it was just his mobile phone. He hooked it out of his pocket and put it to his ear, pressing the talk button. A grin spread over his face as he did so, anticipating Nick's Texan drawl chuckling down the phone, giving him a long-winded excuse for his tardiness.

"Hey, he said brightly, his ears straining to hear Nick's voice.

"Good morning, Mr Sanders," a cruel voice said, with a hint of malicious laughter. It sent ice down his spine as he was sent back to the last time he'd heard that voice. It was the voice he heard in his nightmares, the voice of his attacker. The voice that had laughed and mocked him as he'd screamed Nick's name.

"I just phoned to tell you…" the voice went on, oblivious to his discomfort, or revelling in it?

"…I've got your boyfriend."

Greg felt himself collapse onto the chair behind him, his legs giving way. His mind sang one word over and over again, a wild keen of despair and fear. His breathing became hoarse and he could feel his heart against his ribs. His hand tightened on the phone, wishing it were his attacker's neck.

"Greg?" the smooth Texan voice he had indelibly printed onto his mind spoke, making Greg gasp with the mantal anguish it caused.

"Yes," he said, breathing the word, hardly daring to speak.

"I… I love you…"


End file.
